Saturday, April 17, 2004
Sunny and warm
Some days, one is simply out of sorts. I’m not a very nice person today – oversensitive, irritable, tired, snappish. I can’t seem to get anything done. A flippant comment by someone who barely knows me and means even less raised my hackles. I want to strike back, but the reality is that it isn’t worth escalating the conflict. This is someone who likes to stir things up – why buy into it, especially as this person has no permanent position in my life?
I’d like to blame it on the Islanders’ elimination from the playoffs, but that would be both untrue and unfair. It’s true that Tampa eliminated them last night. It’s unfair to say that’s the cause of my malaise. I feel badly for the Islanders. I’d hoped they’d make it to the Final. But I’m also pleased that Martin St. Louis of Tampa was the one who scored the OT winning goal.
Stefan Rivard of the Atlantic City Boardwalk Bullies is retiring at age 30, and they are retiring his number. He was so kind and helpful when I went down to talk to the team during my hockey research. He’s extremely smart and talented --- I hope the world of hockey hasn’t lost him. He’s still got a lot to contribute to the sport. I wish him well in whatever path he follows from now on.
Yesterday I struggled to work on the horror serial. I did some business work, answered questions for some editors, sent a revised copy to one of them. I saw a new piece up on another site – I’m pleased with it, and sent off the news to my mailing list. Someone played a joke on one of the writing boards, and I wasn’t in the mood for it, so I left for a bit. No reason to get mad at people having fun because I’m not in the mood for that kind of joke. Got off a packet of cards to the Women Writers of the Desert conference – they will be included in the goodie bags. Also donated a few things for them to give as prizes during the conferences – made up simple gift certificates and sent them off. I answered interview questions for a freelance writing forum. What I had to say about grants will read like sour grapes. Perhaps it is. I never promised to be a perfect human. I have my faults and emotional baggage as much as the rest of the world. It was a reasonably productive day.
And today I’m struggling. I spent too much time scouring the job boards. I re-read some short stories and like them. I’ll do some tweaking, but now I need to figure out where to submit them. They don’t fit into anyone else’s boxes. It’s good to be unique, but more difficult to find the right market. I wrote the first draft of two essays that need to go out by the end of the month. I need to do more work on the horror serial, and I’m avoiding it.
Pages of spewing won’t make me feel better. The Devils face elimination in the playoffs this afternoon, so maybe a hockey game will set me to rights. I should make a trip to Staples to get supplies and do my newsletter mailing. I should finish the library mailing. I have book reviews to write. I have more work to do on the websites. I have a batch of query letters waiting to go out.
And I don’t feel like doing any of it.
Maybe I should take today as my day off, but I didn’t write much in Maine, so I’m not really entitled to a day off. But roaming around and around in circles in my own head certainly isn’t solving anything. And the fact that there’s so much darned room to roam in there is cause for concern.